


It Was Beautiful

by thatgirlyeojoo



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 13/10 would smooch kihyun, It kinda hurts, M/M, Rebound, Showki, kihyuk, maybe i am too whipped for kihyun too, shownu is a little shit, stream shoot out for clear skin, whipped minhyuk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 12:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlyeojoo/pseuds/thatgirlyeojoo
Summary: Minhyuk thinks Kihyun is the most beautiful thing ever and Hyunwoo is a little shit.





	It Was Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *a self-proclaimed writer*  
> Also me: *uses the word beautiful 2343 times*

Kihyun said he'd be here in five minutes; he'd just nip to the toilet before clocking out and meeting me. It was a Friday night; I was able to convince him to finish his work early so we could go for a drink. "It makes no sense to render OT on a Friday, come on!" I urged him. Kihyun, a soft-hearted man with a pure soul, chirped out a laugh before conceding: "Fine, fine. Let me hang up now, so I can continue with my editing." Just the image of him crinkling his eyes and breaking into a smile so wide his dimples would appear at the apples of his plump cheeks makes me giddy. I always teased him about his cheeks--that gloriously bulge whenever he fills them with food--but truthfully, I think he's very cute that way. Makes me wanna squish him. A tiny little hamster, 13/10 would smooch. He'd be covering the mouthpiece with his stubby little hands and hunching over his mobile phone, making him look smaller, so his colleagues at the studio wouldn't hear. "Okay, see you later then!" "Bye!"

Not that Kihyun called my attention but my senses signalled his arrival--quiet steps, a little disturbance. When I turned, the aisle of this lonely convenience store was empty, but my peripheral vision told me he was at the other end, hiding his short frame quite successfully (except that a gap between the chips showed the top of his head).

"Hey!"

The smile he gave was the most beautiful--exactly how I imagined it, only ten times brighter. An actual sun. It teased a smile on my own lips and the flock of butterflies in my stomach woke. I couldn't quite believe that this angel was right in front of me and that he was approaching me. Whipped culture.

"I saw you."

"I know."

I couldn't fathom how Hyunwoo had the audacity to leave Kihyun.

 

I met Kihyun a few months after he broke up with Hyunwoo and though we never mentioned it, I have accepted the fact that I would be nothing but a rebound. His past with Hyunwoo, whoever the shit was, was never clear to me. On the surface level, I knew Hyunwoo broke up with him for someone else. And it wrecked Kihyun's heart. He never said it, but the look on his face sometimes tells me he was still hurting over it. You know that faraway look someone suddenly has on their face when recalling something painful? I bet it was beautiful at the time, that was why he couldn't get over it, but it became painful after what happened. And much as I try to make him smile over bubbling mugs of beer and try to outdo Hyunwoo, I would never be enough. 

The little shit was the luckiest man in the world, but he fucked it up big time.

So I, a whipped Minhyuk, settled as Kihyun's poor rebound.

"How's your day at the shop?"

That was the usual question to start a long conversation. Kihyun never interrupted, he gasped at the proper pauses, laughed when I manage to slip in a good joke, and commented when necessary. I am a talker, always am. But I found my new habit: talking endlessly while looking straight into his eyes.

I just love how his eyes would shrink smaller the funnier I become. His laugh was always quiet, tiny wheezes in the noisy bar, but it was contagious. I would catch myself laughing more because of that, and he'd laugh more, and we'd laugh together, and it was too beautiful, too perfect. 

I wonder how long I'd be here with him.

Sometimes I forget the impending separation, the elephant in the room that we choose to ignore at the moment. Because Kihyun cannot be left unoccupied: he'd get all nostalgic and begin hurting again. It was like seeing a kicked puppy--and no one wants to see a kicked puppy because it's heartbreaking. Not that I've seen him cry or anything; he was making a good job of hiding that.

If he was someone you don't know, you'd think everything in his life is going smoothly. He's got his own house, made a living by doing what he liked the best (photography), and had a lovely family (he often told me about them; they're everything to him). Beyond that though, he didn't have a fixed set of friends and the love of his life left him. Truly, you cannot have everything. He'd go to the concerts of the musicians he adored and the musicals he liked, alone: trying--and failing--to make friends with the other fans, a little hamster feeling lonely in a sea of his fellow. It was frustrating, but he went for the show anyway, he said. 

I felt like I've discovered everything about him during our times together, but it seemed it was only the tip of the iceberg: I could see that he was still afraid of opening up to someone.

And committing to anyone. 

The way he talked about how he is with his parents, he is a clingy person. He told me tales of holding his mother's hand as they shopped together and hugging his father whenever he visited them. He'd cook for them, send them beautiful shots of the flowers or the ducks in the pond or the afternoon sun (he said he liked them more than the morning sun) through their little KakaoTalk group chat, and play the piano for them. With me, though, he has never touched my arm or sent me pictures or give me a cookie he baked. At one point, with alcohol flowing down my veins, I bravely asked him:

"What are we?"

His face had fallen and he had fiddled with the tiny fingers in his tiny hands: "I don't know."

"You know I like you, right?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I'm sorry."

But again, I, a whipped Minhyuk, brushed it off. As long as I could be with him, I'd suck it all up and be okay with it. 

"I like you too--you've been a good friend--but you know…"

"Yeah. Sorry. Forget that I asked."

There were times (a hundred thousand times) I want to hug him and keep him to myself. I wished he'd just forget about the man that broke him and be happy with me. I wanted to see him as he really was--no pretentions, no more hiding his true self. I wanted to shield him from this ugly world because he deserved nothing but the best. I often wondered how he acted around Hyunwoo, but I knew I'd have to keep on wondering.

At one point I got him to talk about Hyunwoo. Little things. Like how they met or how they celebrated their anniversary. They spent half a decade, after all. (How can anyone forget five years' worth of memories in five months?)

"In a gallery, before I became a photographer. We looked at the same painting and had a brief conversation about the piece," Kihyun had said. There had been a noticeable spark in his eyes, recalling what was probably the most important moment in his life, a light I had never seen before. "It was a painting of a woman with her back to the observer. I thought it was something sensual, with her long inky black hair falling in waves behind her and her clothes halfway down her torso. Very little of her expression could be seen. But Hy--" he caught himself at the last second. "He pointed at the subtle brush of purple paint on her arm: it was actually an image of domestic abuse. And I got so impressed by such a simple thing, how stupid of me," he had chuckled. 

"It was impressive," I had acknowledged. It was, indeed, admirable.

"I never asked him to buy me gifts or anything. I hate plushies anyway. A walk under the stars in a quiet park, a dinner in McDonald's, listening to music together…"

Kihyun was someone who'd pay attention to the smallest details (something he learned from Hyunwoo, maybe) and never resent the smallest gesture of affection. 

He had smiled through his storytelling, but it had been bitter, and I didn't push anymore. Just watched him make an awkward sip of his beer, pupils turned toward the ceiling (as if that would stop the flow of emotions). I had apologised for asking him, but he had said it was okay.

For Kihyun, it was always okay. Ask him how his day was: it was okay. Ask him how the food, the movie, the song, the book, the weather, the shoot, the kitten on the sidewalk: everything was okay. Even his feelings, he said they were okay. A safe answer, a response that didn't want to explain why. It was just okay and being okay was never not okay.

But Kihyun was not okay, that much was clear. A short trip to the toilet and I'd come back to our table with him stirring the plate of spicy rice cakes unnecessarily and sadly. Then he'd break into a beautiful smile again and talk animatedly as if I didn't see it. He'd listen to my next round of ramblings again and he'd gasp at the right moment, laugh at the side jokes, and share his views. 

"Maybe you want to tell a funny story too; you just couldn't because my mouth is going off non-stop all the time?"

He had thought for a bit, his eyebrows hiking up briefly as if he recalled something that made him laugh so much, but pushed it at the back of his head because, probably, it involved Hyunwoo, and he didn't want to talk about him. "Oh, I've got nothing to share. I like listening to your stories."

"Come on, I'm sure there is," I had urged him. "Something that happened when you were a kid or something you saw on your way here?"

"Nothing--oh," he had said, getting excited. "I rode the bus on the way to work this morning and saw this woman in her car, eating cereal in a bowl, and controlling the steering wheel with her knees," he had said. The story was so funny to him he laughed for about a minute or two--a genuine _hahahaha_ laugh--eyes glistening with joyful tears.

I had failed to stop myself then--I held his cheeks in my hands and kissed him on the edge of his lips. That had shut him up completely out of shock, and I had apologised profusely, saying he looked too cute I wanted to kiss him, and he had said, "It's okay."

I feared for a moment that he'd storm out of the bar and never see me again because I had been so stupid, but he still agreed to go out with me.

How long has it been since we started hanging out together? I lost track of the days, but I didn't want our nights together to stop. I didn't want to count down to the day he'd eventually tell me we should stop seeing each other. Yet I know it would come eventually. He said he liked me, but perhaps he never liked me enough to stay with me. 

It was a sad thought, but I wanted to remain as positive as I could. My noona told me to be strong. They said love hurts, and Kihyun was a living proof of that, but I never knew I would experience it this way. Kihyun, he was yearning for the person who had found happiness in someone else's arms. Hyunwoo, the little shit. I was starting to sound more and more like Kihyun. I was starting to console myself: "It's okay" even though it really wasn't. It was only okay because it was Kihyun. I'd always think it was worth it, because it was him. Strong, I would be.

 

As the waitress put our drinks on the table, Kihyun threw out the question, as usual.

"How was work?"

So I launched into a story about how this lady complained about her malfunctioning printer and how I told her there was a pencil lodged between the ribbon (how it got there, I had no idea). And then there was a customer asking if I know how to repair an Oddo phone, only to realise she was talking about the brand, Oppo. Kihyun laughed a lot at that. 

"Yours?"

That shut him up for some reason. He would say it was okay, just an ordinary day at the studio, no big deal, but it seemed like he found it hard to respond.

And then he said why:

"Hyunwoo came to the studio."

It was the first time he said the name out loud. He told me the little shit's name through text.

I unconsciously glanced at my watch, saw the second hand tick two spaces but didn't really register the time.

"Oh yeah?" I said, forcing out a smile. "What did he say?"

"Apologised. Asked if I could still give him a chance. They broke up." He said the words quickly, like he wanted to get to the end of his sentence quickly. 

"And now he wants you back because he can't live without a boyfriend, right?" The little shit. The audacity.

"Minhyuk…"

"So what did you tell him?" I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. Or maybe I really wanted to snap at him because of my bubbling anger.

"I… I don't know, Minhyuk, I've been badly hurt--"

"Exactly!"

"--but I still love him."

I stared at Kihyun: he looked hopeful, like a man who had been promised the moon instead of a measly star; the spark in his eyes were definitely back; and he was sitting at the edge of his chair, as if he was ready to fly as soon as he said the words I didn't--never--want to hear.

Seeing the look on my face, he cast his eyes down to the mug of beer he was holding and swirled the golden liquid in its container. He was trembling. And then a tear fell into the mug. "Ah, crap."

"Kihyun."

Eyes glistening, he looked at me. "I really don't know what to do. I missed him so much and I wanted to run to him, but I was badly hurt." His lips twitched, a brave attempt to smile, but it was shortlived. "I really don't know what to do," he repeated. "But I waited so long for this."

He still loved the little shit, he just didn't know how to act on his feelings. 

Maybe this was it, the end. I glanced at my watch again and found the second hand on the same spot it had been in earlier; I didn't know how many trips it had completed around the watch. It ticked two spaces. 

"Did he say he still loves you?"

"He did. Said he made a mistake and wants to make up for it."

I took a deep breath, calming myself and denying to acknowledge the building panic. I called the waitress again to order a plate of spicy rice cakes. When she turned around to get our food, I reached a hand across the table to Kihyun to wipe his tear tracks with a slender index finger.

"Don't rush into making a decision. Think about it."

That seemed to make him cry more. "Come on, Ki. You wanted this, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you crying?"

He hiccuped, sniffed like a kid, and wiped his tears with his sleeves. "Sorry."

We sat in silence for the first time since we met. I came to realise that this was the first time Kihyun cried in front of me. So many firsts on what would be our last day together. The rice cakes arrived.

"Tuck in?"

He reluctantly took a piece and ate it. He always looked like a hamster whenever he eats and it was amusing to watch him. Makes me soft. Makes me want to feed him more to see his cheeks bulge bigger with food. 

"What?"

"Nothing," I smiled. "Did the couple you told me about had their baby already?" I asked. He mentioned a pregnant woman and her husband came to the studio to have their pictures taken before she delivers their baby. It was a baby girl, Kihyun said, noting how the woman was indeed glowing.

"Oh, yeah. Come to think of it, they mentioned I should take their baby's photo soon. I couldn't wait to see the little angel…"

The elephant remained ignored as we fell into a casual conversation. Maybe prolong the time I could still be with him because sooner or later, before we leave, we'd have to address the topic.

I looked straight into his eyes as we talked, memorising every detail: the way his eyes would turn into little crescents over a cheek-full of food, dimples dotting them beautifully whenever he breaks into a wide smile, the way he'd pout his lips around his O's and U's, his subtle lisp, his perfectly timed gasps and laughs, his spot-on comments. Gosh, I love this man.

I just had to admit it to myself for the first time, right on our last day together.

With our second plate almost empty and our beer mugs drained, I called the waitress' attention for our bill.

"Minhyuk-ah…"

His tone was serious again. "Hmm?" I hummed, though I knew perfectly well what would come next. 

"I have made a decision, a long, long time ago," he said quietly, gently. "I knew all along I'd come back to him if he'd ask, and today he did, so…"

"Yeah, I know," I said. "So this is goodbye then?" I said casually, smiling, although it was really breaking my heart. I didn't want to say goodbye. 

"I really don't want to lose a very good friend," he said. "You know I've already lost so many and I don't want to lose another one tonight.

"I know you said you like me, so I'm really sorry. But I'd like to keep you as my friend," he went on.

I had long acknowledged what my role in his life was: a rebound. Kihyun never promised me anything, never led me on. He was just someone who was looking for a company and I gave him that willingly. He did say he liked me as a friend. And what a good friendship it was. 

True, it was painful, but Kihyun was my happiness. I wanted him to stop hurting, to return to his old self and to be the actual kind of person he was talking about. Maybe I'd get a picture of a golden rice field on our Kakao thread. A box of cookie on my desk at work. An arm around my shoulder. Maybe when he gets back with Hyunwoo (I'd still call him the little shit in my head), I'd be able to dip down the water and see the rest of the iceberg, see the real Kihyun. And that, really, was all I ever wanted. 

I reached over again and caressed his hair with a gentle smile. 

"Okay, Kihyun."

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did this instead of my part-time job LOL please show me some love by leaving comments!  
> twt @taekmetothewoon


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